


you know I wanna be the one to hold you when you sleep

by ashavahishta



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Allergies, Caring Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Coma, Evan "Buck" Buckley Whump, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Head Injury, Hurt Evan "Buck" Buckley, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, M/M, Medical Inaccuracies, Recovery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-13
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:27:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 10,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28048437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashavahishta/pseuds/ashavahishta
Summary: He doesn’t see it.He barely even hears it, the sounds of struggle on the edge of his awareness as he and Hen roll the patient onto a stretcher. Bobby will tell him later that the guy had broken free from Buck, pushed him hard enough for Buck to lose his footing and trip backwards into the skate bowl.What Eddie does hear is the sickening dullthudof Buck’s head hitting concrete.
Relationships: Evan "Buck Buckley/Eddie Diaz, Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Comments: 74
Kudos: 900





	1. one.

**Author's Note:**

  * For [thisissirius](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisissirius/gifts).



> For Siri, bc our love is deep and pure.  
> Please forgive my medical inaccuracies, I did research brain injury recovery so I hope Buck's journey is at least somewhat authentic.

It’s a regular Tuesday afternoon when they get the call. Assault, stabbing, perpetrator still at large. Police on scene. 

When they arrive at a small skate park they find the victim on the ground with blood spreading quickly from a deep wound in his leg. Eddie and Hen immediately kneel down to try to control the bleeding while Bobby consults with the constables on scene.

“Perpetrator might still be in the park, we’ve got officers patrolling. Alcohol definitely involved.”

Eddie doesn’t hear much, his focus solely on the patient who is beginning to lose consciousness. It’s only when the shouting starts that he realises there’s another person on the scene.

He looks up to find the young man, stumbling and yelling as he tries to get past Buck to the victim on the ground. Eddie can’t make out clear words but the guy is obviously very intoxicated, very worried about his friend and his worry is starting to turn into aggression.

Bobby and one of the police officers move forward to try to calm the guy down, using soothing tones. He’s still struggling against Buck but since Buck has about a foot and 50 pounds on him, Eddie’s not too worried about his friend.

“We gotta transport him now or he’s going to bleed out,” he says to Hen urgently, who nods and starts organising the various IV lines around the patient in readiness for transfer.

He doesn’t see it. 

He barely even hears it, the sounds of struggle on the edge of his awareness as he and Hen roll the patient onto a stretcher. Bobby will tell him later that the guy had broken free from Buck, pushed him hard enough for Buck to lose his footing and trip backwards into the skate bowl.

What Eddie does hear is the sickening dull _thud_ of Buck’s head hitting concrete.

Hen looks up, eyes wide. “Was that -”

“I got this, go check on Buck,” Chim orders.

Eddie scrambles down the edges of the bowl, passing Bobby and the constable now cuffing the drunken man. Buck is moving, thank _god,_ on his back and struggling to sit up.

“Hey, hey Buck don’t move. Don’t move. Can you hear me? What hurts?”

Eddie’s heart is racing but his hands are steady as he cradle’s Buck’s face carefully in his hands and looks into blue eyes. He knows how to do this. Calm in the face of danger and uncertainty is all he knows, even with the adrenaline that shot through him the moment he heard Buck fall.

“I’m okay,” Buck groans. His eyes track Eddie’s finger normally across his face. “I didn’t lose consciousness, I can feel and move everything, I just smacked my head.”

Eddie hums and lifts Buck’s head to feel the back of it for bleeding. “Didn’t break the skin...what day is it?”

“Tuesday.”

“What did you do yesterday?”

“Worked...cooked pasta for you and Chris...watched the Mandalorian.” Buck gives him a small smile. “Eddie. I promise you my brains aren’t scrambled.”

“No more than usual, at least.” 

Bobby has arrived and he kneels down beside them. “Are you okay, Buck?”

“I’m good, Cap .”

Eddie finishes up his assessment and concludes that Buck is actually fine aside from what will probably be a painful bruise to the back of his head. As they help Buck stand and climb out of the skate bowl, Bobby is beginning to insist Buck accompanies their victim to the hospital for scans.

“Come on Bobby, I’m fine! You know they’ll make me wait _hours_ and charge me god knows what for them to tell me nothing’s wrong.”

“You know head injuries aren’t a joke, Buck.”

“I didn’t even lose consciousness! I’m completely lucid, everything feels normal, I promise.”

Bobby looks at Eddie. “You’re the medic here.”

Eddie frowns, trying not to be swayed by the pleading look Buck is turning on him. “I’d...really be more comfortable if you got a scan, Buck.”

Buck pouts and whines, but in the end he lets them drop him off at the hospital and continue on their shift without him.

  
  
  


Six hours later, a weary but healthy looking Buck rejoins them at the firehouse. “Completely clear,” he boasts, and Eddie half expects him to shove an actual scan at him.

“So what you’re saying is your head is empty? Just as I expected,” Chim quips from the opposite couch.

Buck huffs and flops down beside Eddie. 

“He really is like a golden retriever,” Hen adds. “No brains, just love.”

Buck steals a bread roll from Eddie’s plate and throws it at the pair of them, but he’s smiling.

“You totally sure you’re good?” Eddie asks in a quieter tone, unable to help himself from laying a hand on Buck’s arm. 

Buck turns to him, expression softening. “Yeah, Eds. Hundred percent.”

  
  


There’s only an hour left of the shift, but Eddie keeps an eye on Buck the entire time. The other man seems completely normal as he chats to the team, cleans and restocks the truck, and calls out goodbyes to everyone on their way out.

“You coming over?” Eddie calls before they separate at their cars. “There’s still beef in the fridge if you want to make that stir-fry Chris likes.”

  
  


He’s not sure when it became a habit, to spend most of their evenings together. In the first stages of their friendship, Buck would only come by on invitation, maybe once a week for a movie night. But in the past few months it’s felt like they’ve reached a new level of comfort and familiarity with each other. They drop into each other's houses without asking, cook dinner together, watch TV with Christopher. And the strange part is, Eddie just...never gets sick of Buck. He doesn’t get bored with him or ever feel like he’s struggling to fill a silence. When Buck is at his home he never feels like a guest anymore. They can hang out, often doing completely separate things, but still feel comforted by one another's presence.

Eddie’s never really had that kind of easy companionship with anyone else. 

Buck’s smile is teasing. “Figured you’d be nagging me about going home to rest, not asking me to cook for you.”

“Cooking is a great way to test your status,” Eddie argues. “Fine motor skills, thinking ahead…”

“And you and Chris eat something besides your famous grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“Well, there’s also that.” Eddie nudges Buck’s shoulder. “C’mon. I promise I’ll only force you into neuro checks once an hour.”

“I was cleared!” Buck sputters, but he’s still smiling. Eddie is starting to think that Buck is enjoying the reminder that someone cares enough to keep checking on him. “Fine. I’ll meet you there, that stir-fry needs rice and I’m sure you’re out.”

“Alright,” Eddie makes his way over to his own car. “See you at home.”

If Buck questions his choice of words, he doesn’t say it.

  
  
  
  


The next morning, Eddie is the first in the house to wake. He passes Buck on the living room couch, noting that it’s slightly unusual for Buck to still be asleep. Whenever Buck stays over he’s always the first one up, putting coffee on and offering breakfast to Christopher. He supposes it was a big day for Buck yesterday, and even though he seemed normal all evening, maybe his head hurting had made it difficult for him to sleep.

Eddie putters around the kitchen for awhile, sipping coffee and scrolling the news on his phone until he hears noises from Christopher’s bedroom. A few minutes later, Chris enters the kitchen and smiles sleepily as he presses himself against Eddie’s leg and murmurs a greeting.

Christopher looks around the kitchen. “Where’s Buck? He said we could make omelettes together.”

“He’s not up yet, I think he was really tired. Why don’t you go see if you can get him up?”

“Okay,” Christopher nods and disappears into the living room. Eddie starts pulling food out of the fridge - he likes peppers and onion in his omelettes, even if Buck turns his nose up in disgust at them.

“Dad! Buck won’t wake up,” Christopher calls. Eddie smirks to himself. Buck is just asking for trouble now.

“You better tickle his feet, buddy. I’m sure that’ll get him up in no time,” he replies.

“I did!” 

Eddie pauses, frowning at the pepper he was about to put on the bench. It’s not like Buck to ignore Christopher for this long, even for a game. He sets the pepper down and walks into the living room. Christopher is crouched near Buck’s socked feet, looking confused as he tickles the soles. “See?”

Buck hasn’t moved an inch from his position when Eddie passed the room earlier, curled on his side, facing the back of the couch. He kneels down and grasps Buck’s shoulder, shaking gently. “Buck. Hey, buddy, you okay?”

Nothing. Not a murmur, not a flinch. He shakes harder.

It’s like getting punched, the moment Eddie connects the dots between Buck’s injury yesterday and his current state. His pulse quickens and he raises his voice. “Buck? C’mon. Can you hear me?”

He tugs, rolling Buck onto his back and blows out a relieved breath when he sees Buck’s chest rising and falling steadily. Again, Eddie falls back into his training. He checks Buck’s pulse - normal. Respiration - normal. Airways clear. “Buck, can you open your eyes for me? Can you squeeze my hand?” 

Nothing. Eddie swears under his breath. He rubs his knuckles, hard, into Buck’s sternum and waits for a response to the pain. Buck grimaces but doesn’t move. Eddie looks up and finds Christopher watching with wide, terrified eyes. “Dad, what’s happening? Is Buck sick?”

“Yeah buddy he is, I think he hit his head too hard yesterday. I’m gonna call for help, okay? Don’t worry,” he says, keeping his voice as calm as possible. Eddie finds Buck’s cell phone on the side table and grabs for it. Seconds later a clear female voice sounds from the speaker.

“911, what’s your emergency?”

“I need an ambulance at 18 Riverside Drive in Santa Clarita. I have a twenty-eight year old male, unconscious and unresponsive. GCS of six. He hit his head yesterday, scans and neuro checks were clear but -”

“Alright sir, I’ve dispatched help to your location. Tell me more about this injury.”

Eddie goes through the motions with the dispatcher, and it’s only when she asks him to check Buck’s pupils that he really starts to panic. The pen light he hastily pulled from Buck’s jeans (crumpled on the living room floor) shines into Buck’s eyes and -

“Right pupil is blown. Fuck!”

“Sir, you need to stay calm -”

“I am calm,” Eddie insists, but his mind is racing. All of Buck’s symptoms point to significant brain injury - a bleed, swelling, maybe even a stroke. How could the scans have missed this?

The next ten minutes are a blur. Eddie calls Bobby, trusting him to pass the message onto anyone important. He attempts to reassure a teary Christopher, and gathers everything he can think of that they might need if they end up sitting in the hospital all day.

The crew arrives - the 139, not a team he’s familiar with. He gives them as much information as he can and steps back to let them do their work.

And - Eddie knows the paramedics can’t do anything for Buck. He knows they’re doing the exact same assessment he did and Buck won’t wake up just because help has arrived. It still makes Eddie’s heart sink, watching Buck lay there so still as the medics attach monitors and lines to his body.

They load Buck up for transport. As they pass, one of the medics pats Christopher kindly on the shoulder. “Your dad is going to be fine, kid.”

Eddie doesn’t bother to correct her.

  
  


At the hospital, Eddie is joined by those on the crew who aren’t working - Bobby and Athena, Hen, and Maddie. The doctors whisk Buck away for tests and return with the news Eddie was fearing - yes there’s a bleed, yes there’s swelling, yes it requires surgery and no, they don’t know what will happen when Buck wakes up.

“Unfortunately we just don’t know the extent of the damage until we get in there,” a severe looking neurosurgeon informs them. “We’ll do everything we can to resolve this but there is a possibility of deficits.”

Beside him, Maddie lets out a choked gasp and presses her hand to her mouth.

When the surgeon leaves, Eddie sinks into a hard plastic chair, burying his head in his hands.

Deficits. Buck might not be able to walk, or talk, or _see_. He might not be...Buck. His best friend. And if Eddie is being honest with himself for once - more than that. 

There have been moments. Glances, lingering looks. Hands pressed to shoulders, knees nudging together. A quirk of Buck’s full lips making Eddie’s stomach go hot and swoopy. Eddie spending too much time watching the play of sunlight in Buck’s blonde eyelashes. Moments when Buck said goodbye to he and Christopher and Eddie wanted to shout, “ _Stay!”._

_Stay. You belong here. You have a home here._

He was going to tell him, that’s the worst part. Was gathering the courage, waiting for the right moment to take Buck’s hand and say, “ _I want this. I’m here. Stay.”_

Eddie’s own words swim in his head, making him clench his fingers in his own hair. Tomorrow isn’t promised to anyone.

  
  
  
  
  


It’s been hours.

Abuela came to collect Christopher. She’d brought Eddie food, of course. She’d hugged him, pressed comforting kisses into his hair. Bobby, Athena and Hen have been back and forth. Chim arrived after his shift and immediately took up his place at Maddie’s side.

Only Eddie and Maddie haven’t left.

The dour neurosurgeon is back, now. He says the surgery went well. They evacuated as much of the bleed as they could. No, they still don’t know what Buck’s condition will be like when he wakes up, but they’re hoping the anaesthesia will wear off within a few hours.

When he leaves, Maddie surprises Eddie by pulling him into a hug. It’s a bit awkward, considering they don’t know each other all that well, but it’s a comfort to share his relief. To feel Maddie’s shuddering breath on his shoulder and know that he isn’t the only one who cares this much about Buck.

“Thank you,” Maddie says tearfully as she pulls away. “For getting help. For staying.”

“He’s my best friend,” Eddie replies helplessly. “He would have stayed with me.”

“I know,” Maddie gives him a small, knowing nudge. “He really loves you, you know.”

Eddie’s breath leaves him in a shocked _whoosh_. “I -”

Maddie shakes her head and pats his shoulder. “Just saying. If you were wondering. He does.” She backs away, taking Chim’s hand. “I think we’re going to head home for a nap. You should probably do the same. They’ll call when he wakes.”

  
  
  


They don’t call.

Eddie returns anyway, after a shower and a few hours of broken sleep. He finds Buck’s room, finds him sleeping with too many machines hooked up to him. They’ve shaved most of his hair and bandages cover the back of his head. He looks pale, and cold. Still.

Buck’s a big guy. He’s all muscle and long legs, broad chest. Strong. But he’s tiny in that hospital bed and Eddie aches to _do something_ for him, to fix it somehow. All he can do is sit beside him and wait.

Maddie arrives, then Bobby. Within a few hours most of their crew is scattered in the hallway or squashed into the uncomfortable lounges. Coffee is passed around. They pat each others’ shoulders in silent camaraderie and exchange murmured comfort.

Buck doesn’t wake up.

  
  
  
  


He’s going to tell him, Eddie thinks. He’s going to tell him, because Buck is kind, and smart, and loves Christopher like his own. He’s going to tell him because Buck is the best partner he’s ever had, the only person he’s truly been able to trust with his life, with his _son_ , in a long time. 

He’s going to tell him because Buck deserves it. He deserves to know that half a dozen people have been anxiously waiting at his bedside. To know that he’s seen, that he’s loved.

That he’s beautiful.

Eddie is going to tell him, as soon as Buck wakes up. 


	2. two.

_Day 3_

In the movies, the coma patient wakes up. Not only do they wake up, they blink for a moment and then start talking like nothing had happened. They reunite with their loved ones and walk out of the hospital the next day.

That’s not what happens. At least in Buck’s case.

It’s been three days since the surgery to deal with Buck’s brain bleed and he’s as still and silent as day one.

Eddie feels his own helplessness and frustration echoed back at him in Maddie’s expression. They’re on either side of Buck’s hospital bed, as they have been for days.

“He’s going to wake up,” Maddie says, and Eddie isn’t sure whether she’s trying to reassure him or herself. She’s holding Buck’s hand, her small fingers tucked under his large ones. 

Eddie doesn’t say anything. He’s staring at Buck’s hands, thinking about the strength in them, the gentleness. How many people has he seen Buck save? How many times has he watched those hands swing axes or hammers, carry victims to safety? How many reassuring pats and touches has he seen Buck deliver to terrified family members? How many times has he himself been the grateful recipient of Buck’s comfort, his strength?

Buck’s hands, so very careful on Christopher’s waist when he picks him up. Buck’s hands, passing over Eddie’s coffee before he can even ask. Buck’s hands hot on Eddie’s shoulder or pressing fleetingly against his hip as they pass in the locker room.

Buck’s hands - flat and pale on a white bedsheet, unmoving.

_Day 5_

Eddie has to go back to work. The team is already down one person, and Bobby had given him all the time off he could. So Eddie traipses into the firehouse and tries to get his head in the game, even though his focus remains back at the hospital.

It’s in the afternoon, as they’re stripping out of their turnouts after a factory fire, that Chim shouts, “He opened his eyes!”

Eddie’s heart leaps as exclamations of joy ring out across the room. Chim is bouncing in place, holding his phone up with Maddie’s message on the screen.

“Is he awake for real?” Hen demands. “Did he talk? Is he moving?”

“I don’t know, I don’t know,” Chim mutters, typing frantically. Eddie resists the urge to pull his phone out and call Maddie. Better yet, he wants to just drive to the hospital and see for himself.

Moments pass before Chim lets out a disappointed breath. “Oh.”

“Oh?”

“Well, he opened his eyes and Maddie _thinks_ he seemed to recognise her, but that was it. He didn’t...really do much else.”

Eddie deflates. 

“Oh.”

Silence descends over the group for a few moments before Bobby steps in. “This is good news, guys. It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s progress, right? It means the swelling is going down.”

“Yeah,” Eddie manages half a smile and accepts Hen’s sympathetic hand on his shoulder. “Progress.”

  
  
  


_Day 7_

Two days of Maddie’s texts, two days of “ _His finger twitched!”_ and _“He stayed awake for nearly ten minutes and I swear he was working up to talking.”_ Two days of rough weather sending them on endless calls, with Eddie too exhausted to do anything except throw himself in bed the moment he got home.

Two days of hoping that Buck’s condition would improve, that by the time Eddie finally made it to the hospital he’d be greeted by that wide smile, those bright eyes.

Maddie’s not in the ICU when Eddie arrives. She’d finally caved to Chim’s begging and let him take her home for a shower and sleep. Eddie admires her devotion, but he has to admit he’s a bit relieved to be alone when he steps over the threshold into Buck’s room.

It’s different, he notices immediately. Some of the equipment supporting Buck has been removed. It feels lighter.

Buck is asleep. He looks almost the same as he did a few days ago - pale and small-looking, even though his tall frame nearly takes over the bed. He has blonde stubble growing in, and his birthmark is bright pink against his skin. He looks young and terribly, terribly fragile.

  
  


Eddie settles into that uncomfortable plastic chair and starts to tell him about his day.

  
  
  


It’s an hour later, while Eddie wraps up his story about the hiker he helped pull off a cliff, that Buck stirs.

It’s a tiny thing - his right arm twitches, close to where Eddie’s hand is settled against the blanket. Eddie sucks in a breath, his heart pounding.

Blonde lashes flutter and then all of a sudden, like it’s the easiest thing in the world - Buck is looking at him.

“Hey,” is all Eddie can say. He gives in to the urge to take Buck’s hand and squeezes gently. “Hey, Buck.”

There’s no movement, but Eddie can’t say he was expecting anything. Buck’s eyes move slowly over his face and Eddie swears, he _swears_ he can see recognition there. 

The neurosurgeon had said there’s no way of knowing what Buck can understand. Whether he’s aware of anything around him, whether he knows who they are or even if he can _hear_ them.

It doesn’t stop Eddie from reaching up and ghosting a soft touch over Buck’s cheek. His thumb rubs lightly back and forth, Buck’s skin dry under his, their gazes still locked. “You’re gonna be okay,” Eddie murmurs. “Take your time, Buck. We’re all gonna be here for you when you’re ready.”

Buck’s lips part and - it’s not a word. It’s just a sound, garbled and confused, bubbling from the back of his throat but it’s _something._ Eddie’s eyes fill with tears.

“I know,” he whispers. “You’re still in there somewhere, huh? It’s okay. We’ll figure it out. You and me.”

  
  
  


_Day 10_

Christopher is _desperate_ to see Buck. 

Eddie hasn’t told him many details, just that Buck’s head was still hurt and he needed to rest in the hospital. It’s been nearly two weeks since Chris found Buck unresponsive on his couch, and Eddie is starting to think it scared Christopher even more than he thought.

“Did I do something wrong?” he keeps asking Eddie. “Did we hurt Buck when he came over to stay with us?”

Eddie has tried to reassure his son that there was nothing they could have done differently, although he’s not sure he believes it. He still goes over that night in his head, trying to see if he missed something. Did he rush through Buck’s neuro checks? Did he brush off some sign that Buck was bleeding that whole time? The thought that Buck was injured while Eddie unthinkingly went to bed, assuming the worst was over...it haunts him.

What’s worse is that Christopher was already scared of hospitals. He knows his mother went to hospital and never came back. He’s already asked Eddie when Buck will come home and Eddie doesn’t have a solid answer for him.

Buck _has_ been making progress since he opened his eyes a few days ago. He can sit up and turn his head, but has trouble with moving his limbs. He can vocalise, but only small words, and it’s unclear how much he understands of what’s said to him. 

Eddie’s been back twice in the last week, but he’s reluctant to take Christopher. He’s just not sure what good it would do to let Chris see Buck like that, whether it will scare him or make him sad. 

“I don’t think it will do him any harm,” Carla argues gently when he brings up the subject. “It’s scary, but it’s reality. Christopher loves Buck, and he’s worried about him. I think it would help him to see that Buck is okay.”

“But he’s _not_ okay,” Eddie says, his grip tight around his glass. Christopher is in bed and he and Carla are sitting in the living room, the TV muted. “He just lies there and blinks, it’s…” _Terrifying,_ he finishes in his head. He sighs.

Carla’s face softens sympathetically. “I know. I’ve cared for clients post brain injury before and it does feel like they’re not really...there at first. But you’ll be surprised how much progress he can make in a short time. And even if he doesn’t seem aware, I’m sure he can feel that there are people around him who love and support him. Don’t you want Christopher to be a part of that?”

She’s right and he knows it, knows he can’t keep Christopher away from Buck for much longer. The bond between the two of them has grown over the years into something entirely outside of EddieandBuck or even EddieandChristopher. They love each other, and he knows if there’s anyone Buck would want to see right now, it would be Chris.

  
  


The next day, Eddie sits down across from Christopher at the breakfast table.

“Chris, if you still want to, we can go see Buck today.”

Christopher perks up immediately, his face breaking into a wide smile. “We can?! I can show him my shiny magikarp!”

Buck had gotten him into Pokemon Go a few months ago - and still plays himself, although Eddie is pretty sure it’s mostly to indulge Chris. On outings, they’ve constantly got Buck’s phone out (or Eddie’s, which Chris uses for his own game) to scout for pokemon. Eddie has no idea how the game works, aside from how excited Christopher and Buck get over it. 

He smiles. “You can, buddy, but I need to talk to you first, okay? This is serious so I need you to listen carefully.”

Christopher straightens in his chair. “Okay, Dad.”

“When Buck hurt his head,” Eddie pauses. He’s been rehearsing this all morning but it doesn’t make it any easier to get out. “When Buck hurt his head, it made it hard for his brain to do things properly. And he’s still getting better, which might take a very long time. So right now he can’t do a lot of things, Chris. He can’t move or talk much, and he might be sleepy or confused. He might not act like he knows we’re there at all, and I think that could be scary for you. So I need you to think really hard about whether you want to see him yet, okay?”

It takes a few moments for Christopher to process this. Finally he says, “I still want to go, Daddy. Buck looks after me even when I’m hurt so I want to do it for him too.”

Eddie had never expected him to say no, but it fills him with pride anyway. “Ok, buddy,” he leans over and presses a fervent kiss to the side of Chris’ head. “We’ll go as soon as we finish breakfast.”

  
  


As it turns out, Eddie had no reason to worry. Christopher is wonderful with Buck. He’s quiet and calm; sits chattering at Buck’s bedside as though nothing is wrong. Buck is sitting up slightly, very still aside from his eyes tracking Chris’ movements. At one point his mouth twitches in what might be a smile, and he seems to squeeze back when Christopher holds his hand. 

Eddie sits back and watches, torn between relief that Chris is taking this so well and gnawing sadness at seeing Buck in this condition. Buck is one of the brightest, most animated people he knows - especially around Christopher, when his kindness and warmth shines through the most. He’s always matched Chris’ enthusiasm with his own, their voices jumbling together in excitement and laughter. To see him so still and quiet makes Eddie ache.

It’s only about twenty minutes before Buck’s eyes begin to droop with fatigue. Eddie steps up behind Chris and puts his hands on his shoulders. “Ok kiddo, I think that’s enough for today, okay? Let’s say goodbye and let Buck sleep.”

“Can I hug him?”

Eddie hesitates for a moment, then decides it can’t hurt. He gently lifts Christopher onto the bed and allows his son to lean over and drape skinny arms around Buck’s shoulders.

“Bye Buck,” he whispers. “I hope you get better.”

He climbs down, Buck’s eyes following him again. Buck’s brows furrow and a moment later he pushes the words out: “Thanks...come.”

Eddie feels his heart clench. “You’re welcome,” he rests his hand gently on Buck’s neck, thumb brushing his collarbone. “I’ll be back tomorrow, okay? Get some rest.”

Buck’s asleep again before he finishes the sentence. 

  
  


_Day 15_

Here’s the thing: Eddie didn’t realise just how much relied on Buck until he wasn’t there.

It's the worst when he’s on shift. There’s a rotating list of people taking Buck’s place on the team, and not a single one of them has fit in the way Buck did. Eddie constantly finds himself looking to his side, expecting Buck to be right there as he has been from the beginning. He’s used to being able to communicate with an eyebrow raise or head tilt, used to reading Buck’s movements and decisions before he even makes them. Sometimes Eddie will reach out, expecting a tool to be handed to him and finding his hand empty, Buck’s replacement of the day looking at him in confusion. He’d been so settled into his rhythm with Buck that he’d taken their seamless partnership for granted.

It’s not only that. He’d felt _safe_ with Buck by his side. Buck’s excellent at his job. Running into burning buildings or rappelling down cliffs suddenly seems much more dangerous without Buck there to look out for him. Eddie knows perfectly well that the other firefighters are just as well-trained and experienced as Buck but he doesn’t _know_ them. He doesn’t trust them like he trusts Buck.

“He’s your work husband,” Hen remarks one day, after Eddie complains that nobody except Buck seems able to work a rope properly. “He knows you, you know him, and you work better together. Chim’s mine, obviously.”

Chim winks at them across the table. “Don’t tell Karen.”

“Like Karen doesn’t already know.”

“It’s not just that,” Eddie tears into a bread roll, his frustration showing in his jerky movements. “I know Reynolds or whoever can learn when I need more give on my line or not. Working with them, I can deal with. But hanging out with them? I can’t even _talk_ to these guys.”

It’s true. Downtime at the firehouse has become a lot quieter and less fun without Buck around. Reynolds is an older guy; no nonsense and gruff with absolutely zero interest in the personal lives of his coworkers. On the other end of the scale is Vojec, fresh out of the academy and terrified of her own shadow. Hen has been trying to coax her out of her shell but so far she’s kept her head down and hasn’t socialised with the crew much. There’s a couple of other guys who rotate in and out of their shifts regularly; nice enough people who Eddie is yet to form any kind of connection with.

He misses Buck’s easy conversation, especially how eager he always is to discuss Christopher. He’d offer advice or just an understanding ear, something Eddie has come to rely on in the absence of another parent.

“I miss talking to him too,” Chim remarks. He looks uncharacteristically solemn as he drags his spoon through the chilli Bobby made this afternoon. “I mean, who else is going to tell us the history of like...button manufacturing?”

“Design,” Eddie corrects absently.

“What?”

“Button design,” Eddie says. “That’s what he was reading about that morning, remember? About how some designers completely dominate the industry.”

He looks up from his food only to catch Chim and Hen’s expressions - a mix of indulgence and exasperation. “What?”

“Nothing,” Hen says in a tone that says it’s definitely _something_. “It’s just sweet that you listen to him so carefully.”

Eddie feels his face growing hot. “Not like there’s anything else to do,” he mutters weakly. He blows out a heavy sigh. “And not like he’s gonna be able to talk like that for awhile now.” _If ever._

“So no improvement?” Hen asks, looking between them. Maddie has been at the hospital most days, having taken an extended leave from work. Chim is most likely to have updates on Buck’s condition.

Chim tilts his hand back and forth in a _so-so_ motion. “Physically he’s getting stronger, they want to work on his balance and his right side is still pretty weak. Maddie says he can form coherent sentences but he forgets or can’t find a lot of words. And he’s still sleeping a _lot._ Doctors say it’s all normal though.”

“He slept most of the time I was with him the other day,” Hen agrees. “But I feel like he can understand when we talk to him, don’t you? He just can’t speak back to us yet.”

“I hate it.” Eddie drops his spoon with a clatter and he runs his hands through his hair in agitation. He feels like he’s been holding back all his worry, his fear, his _anger_ that something like this could happen to his best friend. “I hate how weak he is, I hate the thought that he’s _trapped_ like this, I hate how long it could take before he’s himself..”

Hen’s hand lands on his wrist and squeezes. “You miss him. You love him. We all do.”

There’s nothing left to say to that.

(It’s not until Eddie gets home that night that he realises Hen called Buck his _husband_ and he didn’t even pick up on it.)

  
  


_Day 18_

It’s late, and it’s been a bad day. The shift felt endless, bad call after bad call. Eddie’s seen more body bags today than all of last week combined. He feels heavy, and not just because he’s bone tired from climbing stairs and hefting debris. It’s the weight of everything he saw. It’s one of those days he’ll be feeling for awhile, and he expects he won’t be sleeping through the night.

Luckily, the evening had turned out to be very quiet after their long day. Bobby must sense Eddie’s mood because he kindly suggests Eddie leave early, and Eddie can’t bring himself to argue.

Carla is staying with Christopher for another few hours. Eddie finds himself heading to the hospital without even really thinking about it.

Buck is out of intensive care now that his motor skills are improving. Eddie navigates the quiet hallways of the ward and finds Buck’s room quickly. It’s bigger than the ICU room, and Maddie’s been arranging flowers and cards artfully on the walls, making it much cheerier. Eddie taps his knuckles on the doorframe as he enters. Maddie jerks from where she was hunched over the side of the bed.

“Oh. Hi, Eddie.”

“Hey. Hey, Buck.”

Buck looks up from the small rubber ball clutched in one hand - they must be working on his exercises. “Hi.” He doesn’t smile so much as quirk his lips up on one side, but Eddie’s grateful for the acknowledgement all the same.

Buck looks better than the last time Eddie saw him. He’s wearing sweats now instead of a gown, and only has the nasal cannula attached to him. He’s moving to inpatient rehabilitation soon, according to the last doctor Maddie had spoken to. There’s more colour in Buck’s face and definitely more awareness in his expression. 

He does, however, look tired and a little agitated tonight.

“How’re we doing?” Eddie takes a seat on the left side of Buck’s bed - a spot he’s come to think of as his own, with how often he’s been here lately.

Buck frowns, getting the look of concentration which means he’s looking for words. But Maddie cuts across him before he can answer.

“Not our best day,” she sighs. She looks tired too, pale with dark circles under her eyes. She gestures at Buck. “He’s been a little disoriented, keeps forgetting where he is and then trying to get up. And he doesn’t want to practice this with me,” she adds, pointing with her chin at the ball still clutched loosely in Buck’s fingers.

“It’s...hard.” Buck protests.

“I know it is but it’s _important_ , Evan! The sooner you start to build your strength the sooner you’ll be better, don’t you understand?” Maddie turns to Eddie. “He was fine yesterday, I don’t know why he’s being so difficult today.”

Eddie bites his tongue to suppress a retort. Buck’s not being _difficult_ , he’s hurt and healing and he doesn’t understand what’s going on around him half the time. He knows that Maddie knows this, that she’s just exhausted and god knows Eddie understands that. He just doesn’t want her taking it out on Buck.

“Here,” he reaches out to take the ball and places it in Buck’s other hand. “You wanna try this side instead? Make a fist for me.”

Buck doesn’t move, just stares defiantly at him. Eddie glances at Maddie, who’s giving him a look that says, _See?_

“How many does he have left today?”

“Five closed and open fists in each hand. The nurses got him sitting up on the side of the bed earlier and he held his own weight for a few minutes.”

“That’s great!” Eddie makes sure to address Buck too - he hates the way some people have started to talk around him like he doesn’t exist. “Buck, that’s awesome.”

“Bugs,” Buck says.

Eddie waits to see if there’s more to it - sometimes Buck’s words get jumbled, what comes out of his mouth only kind of similar to what he’s trying to say. But Buck just stares at him, big blue eyes willing him to understand.

“Bugs?” 

“He’s been saying that all day, I don’t know what he means.” Maddie has started to gather her things, obviously intending on leaving now that Eddie has arrived. “Unless it’s just that I’m bugging him.”

“Bugs,” Buck says again, slightly more urgently. His hand twitches toward Eddie like he’s trying to show him something. “Bite.”

“Bite? You think something bit you?”

“Bitch.” Imploring eyes search Eddie’s face again.

“Okay now he’s just being rude,” Maddie says, but she’s smiling tiredly.

“No,” Buck shakes his head slightly. “Itch.”

“Itch…” and it’s _then_ that Eddie finally notices the pink hue to Buck’s wrist above where it’s covered by his sweatshirt. He moves quickly to push the sleeve up. Buck’s pale skin is flushed pink with irritation, small raised white bumps dotting the skin. “Oh jeez. Maddie, Did you put lotion on him or something?”

“Yes, his skin was dry!” Maddie defends, wide-eyed. “Josh gave me this lavender hand cream, I thought it might help with his mood.”

Eddie rolls his eyes, irritation creeping into his voice. “He’s allergic to lavender.” He’s standing now, leaning over Buck to gently push aside the neck of his shirt and inspect his skin further. The rash has spread all over Buck’s collarbones and shoulders. “Christ, it’s all up here too. You didn’t see this?”

“No I didn’t, Eddie, I was too busy trying to help my brother learn how to use his _hands_ again! Since when is he allergic to lavender anyway?” Maddie’s eyes are tearing up now and guilt drops like a stone in Eddie’s gut. 

“She left water. Bugs.” Buck says, looking distressed by the raised voices. 

“Ali left lavender bath salts at his place last year, when he used them he got this rash all over the place,” Eddie explains. He turns back to Buck, hand on his neck and strokes his thumb soothingly over the reddened skin. “This must have been driving you crazy.”

Maddie nods stiffly. “Well he never told me that. It’s not serious though, right? I’ll get some antihistamines organised for him on my way out and it should clear up.”

Eddie nods, still focused on Buck’s irritated skin. He can only imagine how uncomfortable it must have been for him, and how frustrating that he couldn’t do anything about it.

Maddie’s expression is still wounded as she leans over to press a kiss to Buck’s forehead. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Wait,” Eddie lets go of Buck and catches her before she gets out the door. “Maddie...I’m sorry for snapping.” He blows out a frustrated breath. “Work was shit, I...it’s not your fault.”

“I know,” Maddie replies simply. “If I thought you meant it I’d be a lot angrier.” She gives him a tight smile. “You’re good with him. And you’re right, I should’ve noticed. I’m just so tired.”

“We all are.”

“Anyway.” she adjusts the strap of her bag. “See if you can get him to finish the hand exercises? Maybe he’ll feel better once that rash gets dealt with.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

  
  


Left alone with Buck, Eddie re-takes his seat and plasters on a smile. “Maddie’s just going to get some medication for you and hopefully this will improve soon.”

At Buck’s blank look, he rephrases. _Short and simple_ , the doctor had said. _Use smaller words when you can._ “Maddie’s going to get some pills. It will make your skin better.”

“Okay,” Buck quirks that half smile at him. “How...son?”

Names are hard for him. That’s why Ali was simply _she_ , Christopher is _son_ and Maddie is usually just _you_. 

“Christopher’s great. Actually, he wanted me to tell you that he caught a...lapras? Apparently that’s a big deal.”

Expecting Buck to remember the word _lapras_ is asking a lot when he can’t even say his sister’s name, but Eddie came prepared. He pulls out his phone and shows Buck the screenshot of a pokemon Christopher was squealing about yesterday.

Buck smiles and his hand motions clumsily at the screen. “He...got?”

“Yeah, when we were at the cafe down the block yesterday.”

“It’s good.”

Eddie settles in to tell Buck all about his day with Chris, his son’s school projects and the TV show he’s currently obsessed with. 

He doesn’t talk about work, doesn’t dwell on his shitty day. But somehow just hanging out with Buck makes him feel lighter. 

When he gets home, Eddie sleeps through the night.

  
  
  


_Day 25_

They’ve moved Buck into inpatient rehabilitation - a large, bright facility in the San Fernando Valley. It’s exactly where Buck needs to be, but it’s also a 45 minute drive from Eddie’s place so he hasn’t been able to visit as often as he’d like.

In fact, today will be the first day Christopher has been able to see him since their initial visit - a situation Christopher has been _vocally_ unhappy about. They can Facetime with Maddie to check in, but it’s not the same as just being able to spend time with Buck.

It’s a holiday weekend, and most of the B crew agreed to switch to day shift so that Eddie, Hen, Chim and even Bobby could spend the day with Buck - as well as their various partners and children. It will be the first time so many people have been to see him at one time, and Eddie has to say that he’s a little nervous about it.

He and Christopher make their way through the facility to the outdoor area at the back, where Maddie had told him they were setting up a kind of picnic - there was no way they’d fit everybody into Buck’s room. On a large, sweeping lawn there are picnic tables set up with small groups huddled around them in twos and threes. 

They find their group pretty easily, considering how many people are gathered around the two picnic tables. Eddie waves his hellos and quickly finds Buck. He’s in the centre of a knot of people including Maddie, Chim, Bobby and Athena. Buck is in a wheelchair, dressed simply in soft, loose black pants and a red t-shirt. He’s much thinner than he was before the accident, Eddie can see it in how the clothes seem to hang off him, but that’s no surprise. A physique like Buck’s requires strict maintenance, and Buck has been completely bedridden for weeks.

So he’s thin, yes, but not as pale and worn as the last time Eddie saw him. He’s even got a pink flush in his cheeks today, presumably from getting some much-needed sunlight. Eddie watches as Chris rushes over to hug Buck around the knees. Chris talks to Buck for a moment, then Harry calls out for Chris and he pulls away, yelling, “I’ll come back later, Buck!”

“Hi,” Eddie joins the group congregating around Buck’s chair and squats to be on eye level with his friend. “Heya, Buckaroo. How’re you doing?”

Buck smiles. “Hi,” his voice still has that halting quality, like he’s working hard to find words, but today something special happens. “Eddie.”

“Hey!” Eddie feels his face breaking out into an amazed grin. “You got my name, holy shit!”

“Language,” Bobby says amusedly from over his shoulder. 

“Sorry, Cap,” Eddie can’t look away from Buck. It’s a small thing, he _knows_ it’s a small thing, but at the same time it’s everything to hear his name from Buck’s lips. “How long have you known how to do that, huh?”

Buck gives him a look that clearly says, _I’m not a fucking idiot, Diaz._ It’s so damn familiar and so _Buck_ that Eddie could cry.

“Always knew. Couldn’t...say.”

“Alright, genius.” Eddie stands and, in a fit of fondness and relief, leans over and presses a kiss to Buck’s forehead. “What else have you been pulling off since I last saw you? Got a dance routine prepared?”

Buck gives him another Look and Eddie can only laugh. He feels so exhilarated by Buck’s progress that he could perform his own damn dance routine just now.

Hen and Chim are both jostling for a chance to speak with Buck, so Eddie pats him on the shoulder and drifts off to socialise with the others for a while. There’s plenty of food - it looks like just about everyone brought a plate - and with the sun shining and the kids chasing each other across the lawn it feels just like any other gathering they have with their fire family.

Eddie keeps an eye on Buck while he chats to Karen, then Albert. He can’t help it - ever since the skate park, he feels like it’s his job to make sure Buck won’t get hurt again. And Buck is so damned vulnerable right now, locked in his head and barely able to move or communicate. 

As it turns out, Eddie’s concern is at least a little warranted. By the time he finds his way back to Buck’s wheelchair, Eddie can immediately see that Buck isn’t quite coping. 

There are still so many people around him, each trying to get his attention to pass on their good wishes or see how he’s doing. They mean well, and Eddie is sure Buck would appreciate all the love but it’s so much at once that it must be terribly overwhelming for him. Eddie can see the way Buck’s eyes dart from one person to the other, unable to follow the thread of conversation. It’s a lot of noise, light and movement for somebody who was in a coma less than a month ago. 

Maddie stands by the side of Buck’s chair like a mother lioness with her cub, trying to corral the visitors. Eddie sidles up to her, trying to be unobtrusive as he reaches down to squeeze Buck’s shoulder reassuringly. 

“You think this is getting a bit much?” he murmurs to Maddie.

“I know,” Maddie’s worried eyes trace over her brother. Buck is trying to pay attention to an enthusiastic May but his brows are furrowed and he’s silent every time she pauses for a response from him. “His doctor warned me about this...but everyone was so excited to see him.”

“Maybe you should try to wind it down?” Eddie suggests. He doesn’t want to step on her toes; he knows that for a large portion of their lives all Buck and Maddie had was each other. But the longer he looks at Buck the more he thinks this isn’t going to end well.

Maddie nods, but before she can do anything, Denny and Harry appear and start crowding up against Buck’s knees, both trying to show him something on a phone. They’re squabbling, pushing against each other in their excitement. Buck’s eyes go wide in surprise and - fear? He starts shaking his head, pushing weakly at his knees where the boys are still fighting over the phone. 

“Boys!” Eddie barks. “You’re scaring Buck, back up.” Denny and Harry freeze and turn frightened eyes on Buck and then scramble away, allowing Maddie to rush to Buck’s front and place her hands on his knees. Eddie stays back, though his hand moves from squeezing Buck’s shoulder to rub the back of his neck in an attempt to comfort him.

“Maddie,” Buck whimpers, teary-eyed now. It’s obvious that the overstimulation and confusion is crashing in on him and his poor head doesn’t know how to process any of it. 

“I know honey, I know,” Maddie rubs his knees. “We’re gonna go back to your room, okay? Get some rest.”

“Go,” Eddie says, nodding at her when she looks up at him. “I’ll explain, just get him out of here.”

Confused murmurs rise up from the group as she grasps the handles of Buck’s wheelchair and pushes him back toward the building. Eddie watches them go, feeling hollowed out and grief-stricken. Like Maddie, he’d known that Buck’s reaction was a possibility, but that doesn’t make it any easier.

“He’ll be alright,” he assures everyone. “Just a little much for him.”

  
  
  


It feels wrong to stay after Buck’s sudden departure, so everyone begins to disperse soon after. Christopher begs to go home with Denny and his moms, and Eddie is alone when he makes his way back to Buck’s room.

Unlike the ICU or the ward, this room is almost homely. It’s brightly decorated, featuring a proper bathroom and a small lounge area. Eddie supposes the idea is to ease Buck into looking after himself, much like the therapy rooms set up as mock kitchens he’d glimpsed on past visits.

The lights are down, so much so that Eddie has to squint to make out the shapes of Buck and Maddie. Buck is curled on his side in bed, Maddie sitting beside him with her hand in his hair.

“Hey,” Eddie near-whispers. 

“Hey,” Maddie replies. She doesn’t look surprised to see him. “He’s nearly out.”

Eddie hesitates, wondering if it’s a good idea to present Buck with another person when he was so overwhelmed before. It breaks his heart, but if leaving Buck alone right now is what he needs, he’ll do it.

“It’s okay Eddie,” Maddie says gently. “Come on.”

So he approaches the bed, hovering at Buck’s shoulder. It seems to be where he and Maddie always end up - one on each side of Buck, ready to catch him if he falls.

Blue eyes turn to him, clear recognition showing as Buck offers a tiny smile. He looks absolutely wiped out. “Eddie,” he says, and it feels just as magical to hear it the second time. 

“Hey, cariño. You alright?”

He’s a little startled to hear the endearment slip past his lips. He’s not usually the type to use them, except occasionally on Christopher...but Buck just looks so damn vulnerable that Eddie can’t seem to help himself. He’s noticed he’s not the only one to have become more demonstrative since the accident though. All his friends were extra gentle with Buck today, touching him when they spoke as though they’re all determined for him to know how loved he is.

“I’m okay,” Buck says, his speech slightly slurred from fatigue. “Too much.”

“I know,” Eddie can’t help but reach out and drag his fingers through Buck’s soft hair, scratching gently at his scalp. “We’ll make it a smaller group next time.”

It doesn’t take long before Buck’s eyes slip closed and his breaths even out. Eddie keeps stroking his hair. He’s struck by how much he wants this - to touch Buck, to comfort him and watch over him...and not just when Buck is hurt. 

“You really love him, huh.”

It’s not a question.

Eddie startles a little. He had almost forgotten Maddie was in the room. Looking up at her, he finds her watching with soft eyes. 

There’s no point in denying it, not after the conversation they had the night of Buck’s accident.

“Yeah,” he breathes out. He sighs, finally removing his hand from Buck’s curls. 

“Will you tell him?”

“Yes.” Eddie doesn’t hesitate. If there’s anything he’s learned in the last few weeks, it’s that he can’t risk losing Buck, can’t miss out on something as huge and wonderful as what they’ve built together in the last few years. “When he’s ready, I’ll tell him.”

  
  
  
  


_Day 93_

Buck is making beef stir-fry for dinner.

Things are a little different, this time around. For one thing, they’re at Maddie’s, where Buck has been living since he left the rehabilitation centre. Maddie is out with Chim, so Buck and Eddie are alone.

Buck doesn’t quite have the dexterity to be handling knives, so Eddie chops the vegetables. They don’t chat as much as they work; it’s hard for Buck to focus on more than one thing at a time so Eddie just hums along to the soft music tinkling from his phone instead.

Buck does better one-on-one, these days. Groups make him anxious - he can’t follow the thread of conversation and gets easily overwhelmed and confused, so Eddie makes a point of coming over by himself a couple of times a week. 

It’s been a long few months. Buck’s recovery has been intense - he’s had to relearn so much, not just how to walk and talk but to look after himself, to deal with the new ways his brain processes the world. 

Eddie couldn’t be prouder of him. The strength Buck’s shown, through the frustrations and tears and confusion, the setbacks...it’s nothing short of a miracle. His doctors think if his progress continues, he might be close to a full recovery within a year. Whether that means Buck will be able - or even want - to return to work is another story, but Eddie’s fully prepared to support Buck in any decision he makes.

Buck has paused his movements (measuring soy sauce for the marinade). It’s hard to say why - possibly he’s forgotten what he’s doing, or his hand is giving him trouble. His right is much weaker than the left, especially for fine tasks. Eddie watches him quietly.

He doesn’t like to decide what Buck is and isn’t capable of. For one thing, it makes him feel like he’s trying to control or parent him, and that’s not his place. For another, he’s learned enough from Christopher about the importance of agency and setting one’s own limits. Like Christopher, there is a lot that Buck needs help with. But damned if Eddie is going to force that help on him without being asked.

After a moment Buck blows out a quiet sigh, flexes his right hand a few times and picks up the measuring spoon again. Eddie goes back to the vegetables.

Later, they sit and talk. Eddie tells stories about work and the crew, and Buck fills him in on his therapy or his new hobbies. He’s picked up plenty to fill the time and enhance his recovery - drawing, meditation, and crosswords, to name a few.

Buck speaks in slow, measured tones, occasionally mixing up his words or losing them entirely. Honestly, Eddie barely notices anymore. He’s so used to filling in Buck’s blanks or waiting him out when he can’t find words.

It was hard, in the beginning, not to compare the Buck he knows now to the Buck before the accident. Eddie used to find himself thinking wistfully of times Buck could hold a full conversation or do something as physical as rappelling down a cliff without a second thought. There were points in the past few months that Eddie found himself mourning the old Buck, as though he were a separate person who could never return to him.

In a way, that’s true. There are probably parts of Buck which might never come back. The thing Eddie’s come to realise is that that doesn’t _matter_. Buck is Buck - pre or post accident. He’s still goofy, still fun and smart and kind. He still loves with his whole heart.

Eddie loves him. Quietly, and surely, and patiently. 

They’re not ready for the next step, he knows that. Buck isn’t well enough to take on a new relationship, and Eddie would rather die than push him too far while he’s healing. 

But this - curling up on the couch to talk, Buck leaning against his shoulder, sharing warmth - Buck’s sweet smile when Eddie talks about Christopher and the sound of his laughter...it’s enough, for now.

Before he leaves for the night, Eddie excuses himself for the bathroom. When he returns, he finds Buck frozen in the hallway.

“I came to get something…” he mutters, brow furrowing as he scans his surroundings. Eddie presses a hand to his back in silent support. “I don’t know,” Buck finishes after a moment.

“Probably grabbing my jacket for me, babe.” Eddie says gently. He reaches across to pick up the garment from a side table. “Thanks.”

“Oh.” Buck’s face clears. He wraps his arms around Eddie in a warm hug, tucking his face down into his neck. “Thanks for coming.”

“Always,” Eddie kisses his hair. “I’ll see you soon.”

  
  
  


_Day 243_

When it happens, it’s so quiet.

They’re at Eddie’s, Christopher asleep already. Eddie and Buck have curled up on the couch, Buck between Eddie’s legs with his back against his chest. They were watching a movie - something dumb, Eddie doesn’t even know. He was tired from work, happy to put whatever Buck wanted onto the TV after Chris went to bed.

He has one hand curled around the back of Buck’s neck, absent-mindedly playing with the soft strands of hair as the credits of the movie roll. Buck hits the power button on the remote and leaves them cloaked in sudden silence. Then Buck is lifting himself up slightly, hovering over Eddie with the sweetest smile on his face.

“Hi,” Eddie whispers.

“Hi.” 

And Buck kisses him. Easy and soft like they’ve been doing it every day for years.

It feels like they have.

Eddie feels himself smiling against Buck’s mouth, the hand not on his neck reaching up to cup Buck’s cheek. It’s achingly gentle, the way they move against each other, exploring in soft little presses which slowly deepen. Their noses brush and Eddie finds himself on the verge of laughter. It feels _absurd_ that this is happening now, eight months after Eddie realised he was in love with Buck. At the same time he’s so filled with joy and relief and love for this man that he doesn’t know how to contain it.

They break apart when Eddie starts grinning so hard he can’t keep kissing him. He nudges Buck’s nose affectionately as they break apart. Buck is smiling, eyes sparkling, so fucking beautiful he’s almost glowing.

“Why now?” Eddie asks.

Buck shrugs. “You were waiting for me to be ready, right? I’m ready.”

Eddie doesn’t question how Buck knew what he was thinking - they’re so freakishly in tune with each other it’s no surprise to him. He just smiles back at him and leans in for another kiss.

Eddie says, “ _Stay.”_

Buck says, “ _Yes.”_

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on tumblr @ashavahishta, come say hi :)


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